


Stew and Waffles

by reena_jenkins, vassalady



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Campfires, Cooking Failure, Domestic, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes, Waffles, on the road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 13:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bilbo tires of roast rabbit, attempts to introduce variety to the Company's diet, fails to make delicious waffles, and gains a sweetheart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stew and Waffles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Readbyanalise010](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readbyanalise010/gifts).



  


**[Download this podfic as an MP3 (00:17:20 | 17.2 MB)](http://reena.parakaproductions.com/podfics/\(Hobbit\)%20_Stew%20and%20Waffles_.mp3) **

  

Bilbo could not take it any longer. “No, I won’t do it,” he said, throwing his pack to the ground. He didn’t throw it very hard, so it didn’t even make a proper thump as it landed.

“Won’t do what?” Fili asked. He was leaning over the fire with a stick in one hand.

“I won’t have another night of roast rabbit. It’s unconscionable the way you all just make roast rabbit all the time. It’s bad enough we have just two or three meals a day; when we do, it’s roast rabbit or rabbit jerky from the previous night!”

Dori, who arrived just then carrying a dead rabbit, looked at it and then at Bilbo. “But what else are we supposed to eat then?”

“At least make a stew! Or throw some vegetables in a pan, you could at least manage that! Or a hash, maybe!” Bilbo was just short of waving his arms in the air.

The dwarves started murmuring among themselves, things like, “Not eat roasted rabbit?” and “A stew?” and Ori piping up with, “I don’t think hash sounds like a real food.” Bilbo, if he were forty years younger, would have screamed and stamped his feet.

Thorin, who had not joined in with the rest of the company’s whispering, rose slowly. He approached Bilbo, not heading to him exactly, but just in his general direction. He paused when he was just a foot away and glanced over as he said, “If you want to cook, then by all means. No one is stopping you.” And then Thorin continued on, heading toward the perimeter of the camp.

“Fine, then, I will,” Bilbo muttered to himself. He grabbed the rabbit from Dori, handed it off to Ori with instructions to skin and clean it, and went off to forage.

There was at least one reason Bilbo loved the forest: it was full of things to eat. He found spuds, carrots, mushrooms, roots, grasses and herbs for seasoning, berries, and even a particular kind of tree with very tasty bark. He gathered up as much as he could. The dwarves warily eyed his finds. Bilbo did not pay them any mind. Once they tasted his food, they would never have a dull meal again. He could even convince them to at least have elevensies once they knew what they were missing.

He made short work of the his ingredients using his pocket knife. The bits were in large, awkward shapes, but they would be fine once they all cooked together. Everything went into the one pot they had.

As Bilbo worked, he was aware of Thorin making regular rounds through the camp. He never outright approached Bilbo, but he hovered near the edges. Bilbo felt his heart flutter a little. No, he told himself, it was only for the excitement of the food. This was going to be a lovely stew, he knew it.

Heavenly smells began to permeate the camp. Bilbo took in a deep breath; there was still the smell of rabbit underneath it all, as well as the usual stink of Bilbo and the dwarves and nature in general, but there was also the heady scent of the vegetables cooking and of the herbs flavoring it all. Now this would be a feast.

Bofur wandered over, drawn by the smell. “Nearly done?” he asked, clapping Bilbo on the shoulder. “Can’t say we aren’t all starving.”

“Soon,” Bilbo said. He gave the stew a stir. The spuds were still a little tough. “Just have to give it a little longer.”

From the other side of the fire, Oin shouted, “Hurry it up, burglar!”

Bilbo grimaced. “Burglar,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. ''If only I could steal some baths, clean clothes, and the like, now that would be something.''

Bilbo was so occupied with his thoughts of a warm cozy bed and fresh baked rolls, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he head Thorin say, ''Smells good.''

''Oh,'' Bilbo said, heart beating quickly in his chest, ''Thank you, I-‘‘

‘‘Just mind the wargs don't catch the scent.''

And that had Bilbo scowling again second. ''I'm sure the plain roast rabbit is much more appealing to them.''

Thorin’s expression grew dark. “That’s not-” But he cut himself off, gave Bilbo one last glance, and strode away.

What was bothering him?

At last, Bilbo deemed the stew down. The dwarves gathered around, bowls in hand, and they attacked the pot with all the grace of a rampaging herd of… well, dwarves, to put it bluntly. Bilbo had never known quite how messy a dwarf could be until this lot had invaded his life.

“I think this food’s gone off,” Dwalin said. “It’s all orange and there are green bits in it.” He scooped up a spoonful of carrots and herbs and let it slide off back into the bowl.

“It has not!” With a sharp smack, he hit Dwalin’s hand as he tried to reach for the pot to dump it out. “You seemed perfectly happy to eat the food in my home, you’ll find this to be just as delicious.”

There was grumbling among the dwarves, but they settled down with their bowls.

Thorin served himself last, and he gave a nod of thanks to Bilbo. He sat next to Bilbo on a fallen log.

“Well, dig in,” Bilbo said. He held the bowl up to his nose and breathed in deeply. Ah, now that was a meal.

Just as he raised the spoon to take a bite, he heard spluttering and coughing from all around him. Kili was wiping off his tongue with his hand, his face a grimace, Gloin spat on the ground repeatedly, and Ori ran off towards the tree line.

“Hey!” Bilbo glared at them all. “That’s good food you’re wasting there.”

“Have you tried it?” Bofur said, his face twisted in disgust. “It’s-”

“I think it’s delicious,” Thorin said beside Bilbo. He punctuated the statement with taking another large bite. “Thank you, Bilbo.”

Bilbo felt lost in coming up with a response. He nodded and would have stuck his hands in his pockets if he still weren’t holding his own bowl. “Thank you, Thorin. Good to know someone here has taste.”

The other dwarves quieted their various hacking and groans and began to eat again. “It’s not that bad,” Fili said to the group. Bilbo just heard him mutter to Kili, “Just swallow it down, you’ll only slightly taste it.”

Bilbo snorted. Dwarves. He glanced at Thorin. At least Thorin appreciated his efforts. He let himself smile a little, and if his heart fluttered again, well that was something else.

He took a bite and promptly gave a little cough. It wasn’t awful, no where near what everyone had made it out to be. But it was a little… off. Not awful, but there was something about the flavor that was lacking.

“You know,” he said to Thorin with a little shrug, “it would help to have the proper supplies. A cutting board, sharp knives, proper seasonings, a real oven… Could make a properly delicious meal then.”

“You do fine with the pot,” Thorin said before taking another bite. “You can do the cooking from now if you like.”

“Oh.” Bilbo looked into his stew. “Thank you.”

And yes, that was another flutter of his heart there. Bilbo rubbed his chest lightly and glanced at Thorin again. He smiled and began to eat.

 

Thorin’s mouth tasted like a goblin had been sick in it the next morning. He thoroughly rinsed his mouth out a number of times before he even felt slightly better. The stew had been almost half-decent except for one persistent taste that was absolutely horrendous.

Balin joined him at the little stream, rinsing out his own mouth. “No one really understands what you’re doing, letting Mr. Baggins take over the cooking.”

Thorin took his time to answer, using the excuse of having a mouthful of water. He spat and said, “It keeps him occupied.”

Balin just hummed. Thorin didn’t like that knowing look he gave Thorin. “Of course,” he said after a moment. “Just keeping him occupied.”

“Hurry up,” Thorin said sharply. “We need to get moving.”

When he returned to the main camp, Bilbo was sliding off flat round slabs of something bready from a hot stone.

“Waffles!” Bilbo said with a grin. “Well, a little more like pancakes maybe, no waffle iron to be had out here. But a proper breakfast food. Yes, no leftover roast rabbit to be had this morning! Have one!”

Bilbo’s face was so earnest and cheerful, that Thorin only hesitated for a half second before taking the offered “waffle.” He bit into it, and it was awful. It was dry, partially burnt on the bottom, undercooked on top, and settled heavily in his stomach. But it also tasted somewhat of his mother’s waybread. She could never get it baked correctly, always on the burnt side and too heavy.

Bilbo looked at him expectantly, eyes wide, and his smile slipping as Thorin took too long to respond.

Thorin’s heart tightened. “Very good,” he said. He smiled as he added, honestly, “Reminds me of my mother’s cooking.”

Bilbo’s smile spread across his face again. “Perfect.” He nodded to himself. “Perfect.” He fidgeted, glancing to and from Thorin several times. “Well, I guess we should be headed out soon, huh?” He bent down to clean up.

“Thank you.” The words came out in a rush. “For this. Thank you.”

Bilbo smiled again. “Glad you like it.”

There didn’t seem to be anymore to say, and the uncomfortable silence stretched on. “Well, then, let’s get moving,” Thorin said. He turned and certainly did not flee, but his pace was quick.

As he gathered up his pack, Kili and Fili approached him. “You’re not really letting him cook from now on, are you?” Kili said.

Fili added, “It’s just that his food is awful. Did you try those… waffle things today?”

“You’ll eat them and be quiet about it,” Thorin said. He pulled his pack closed. “One more word, and I’ll bash your heads together.”

Kili scoffed and said, “That’s not fair, we’re not boys anymore!”

“You can tell that to your mother when I send you home,” Thorin warned. “I know you didn’t tell her you were leaving with me.” That shut the two of them up, and they meekly shuffled away.

Thorin still had half his waffle left. He looked at it for a long moment. The thought of eating the rest turned his stomach a little, but the thought of Bilbo’s face with his genuine, warm smile made him raise the waffle to his mouth and take another bite.


End file.
